[466] [Familiar.]
[467] [MS. and former edit., my.]
ACT IV., SCENE I.
Enter Votarius, with Anselmus's Lady.
Vot. Pray, forgive me, madam; come, thou shalt!
Wife. I' faith, 'twas strangely done, sir.
Wife. Is that enough to help it, sir? 'tis easy
To draw a lady's honour in suspicion,
But not so soon recover'd, and confirm'd
To the first faith again, from whence you brought it:
Your wit was fetch'd out about other business,
Or such forgetfulness had never seiz'd you.
Vot. 'Twas but an overflowing, a spring tide
In my affection, rais'd by too much love;
And that's the worst words you can give it, madam.